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About five years ago, I had a broken right hand. The doctor put a brace on it instead of a cast, and I was supposed to use the hand as little as possible until it set and healed properly. I'm a musician, so this was not just some kind of minor inconvenience; this was practically my life.
It was damned hard not to use that hand, and my wife stayed on me constantly about it. After one week, I went back to the doctor to see if was setting properly, and I told him what a pain my wife was being (like I was trying to forge some sort of male bonding with the guy). I ended by saying all the little things I was doing with my hand were no big deal, right?
He responded with the single most cold-blooded thing I've ever heard a doctor say.
He said, "It doesn't matter to me whether you screw it up or not. I'll just re-break it and re-set it. Makes no difference to me, although it will hurt you like hell."
I instantly became old one-arm Warrrreagl following that visit.
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Living is easy with eyes closed.
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